


Night Out

by LovelyMelody



Series: Sleepover Prompts [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Brief description of fighting, Dick being cocky, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Mild Blood, No Plot/Plotless, Spitting blood, Teasing, a bit of innuendos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-02 05:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18805081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyMelody/pseuds/LovelyMelody
Summary: It’s just another night out for you and Dick.





	Night Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mallory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mallory/gifts).



> For this week we shared the same prompt: _"Are you calling me an angel? Ha, how sweet of you, but you're off. I breathe fire and hoard treasures, remember?"_
> 
> It's my second time writing a brief fighting sequence, so it's not great, but I hope you guys still like it!
> 
> I'll be adding a link to mallory's story with Bucky as soon as it's posted c:

This was supposed to be an easy bust—in and out, but no, Dick just had to go and do something stupid and get caught. And like always, you have to save his fine ass.

“I told you to wait for me,” you hiss into the coms, watching from a vantage point in the warehouse used by Penguin’s men as a weapon’s cache. You have a clear view of him tied to a chair surrounded by at least nine thugs. They’re taunting him, trying to get a rise out of him, but if there’s one thing Dick is is resilient.

“And miss out on all this fun?” he says to you, or the thug—mostly you, if the smirk thrown your way is anything to go by.

Another punch is thrown his way—a jab to his cheek. He doesn’t wince, only continues to smirk—how does he do that? Is hiding your pain part of the Batman regiment training? “What was that pretty boy? You think this is fun?”

“He should’ve aimed lower,” you joke, pushing aside your worry and mild anger to focus on looking for a clear path to drop down and do your thing. “You think you can handle a couple of more hits for me?”

He spits out blood, right at the thug that hit him. “Of course. Only because it’s you asking, sweetheart.”

The grunt snarls and launches another jab, his buddies egging him on and asking to take turns, but Dick takes it all in stride.

Wincing, you take another quick look around—there are too many wooden crates, and a couple of diesel tanks stored in a corner of the room. If you use your powers, you might accidentally cause the warehouse to explode with you and Dick still inside and half of the dock. Guess it’s hand to hand combat—Black Canary would be so proud to know that you’re not just relying on your powers.

If you drop down behind him, there’s a chance the thugs won’t give you the opportunity to release him from his restraints—unless… Spotting the fire alarm on the other side of the building, closer towards the entrance, you get an idea. Setting it off will most likely send a few of them to check it out together—too afraid to travel alone and face whatever set off the alarm on their own. They’re all predictable. And cowards. How Dick allowed himself to be caught by them is beyond you. 

Walking on the high beams, you set yourself right above Dick and his captors. You reach into your utility belt and you pull out one of the spare Wing-Dings you stole from Dick—you really need to talk to him about changing its name—and press a small, hidden button before throwing it as precisely as possible towards the red alarm. The shuriken like boomerang releases an electrical shock near the fire alarm, setting it off.

Just as suspected, four of them travel together towards the entrance, the rest of them turning their backs on Dick and yelling over the alarm—there’s your opening. With a smirk, you drop down, breaking your fall with the asshole that took aim at Dick the most, your knees behind his shoulders and pushing him down to the ground face first. At the same time, you quickly throw another Wing-Ding to the grunt closest to Dick, and he falls just as the boomerang returns to your hand. The three remaining thugs are too stupefied to react, giving you enough time to break him free.

“Thank fucking god they didn’t use handcuffs,” you tell him as he pushes himself away from the chair to block an incoming attack from the men with his Escrima Sticks.

“Why? Not kinky enough for you?” He yells over the alarm, swinging his batons fast and hard, occasionally turning on the tasers to take them out. “Incoming!” He warns as the wayward thugs run into the fight after realizing your deception with the alarm.

“Got it!” You drop to the floor and sweep your foot to kick the legs of a thug, successfully, dodging a charging attack from another and causing him to crash into a pile of wooden crates. “I prefer your handcuffs. They’re sturdier,” you tease with a wink, kicking a thug in his chest towards his direction and he responds by knocking him out with one of his batons.

“Want to try them out when we get home?” He asks, just as the two of you double team once more to take out the remaining thug. You clap your hands and send a wave of mild heat towards him, blinding and immobilizing him for a moment and giving Dick the chance to roundhouse kick him into stacked crates.

You send in the tip to Amy Rohrbach through your holographic computer implanted in your wristband whilst he ties them up nice and pretty for the police. It won’t be long before they arrive on scene. “After pulling a stunt like you did earlier, I don’t think you deserve play time tonight.” You lift your gaze to find him staring at you, a lopsided grin on his face that only ever means trouble for you. “What?”

“When you jumped down, I swore you looked something heavenly.”

Snorting, you roll your eyes behind your mask and head towards the exit. “Are you calling me an angel?”

“Always,” he practically purrs, right on your tail.

“ _Ha_ , how sweet of you, but you’re off. I breathe fire and hoard treasure, remember?”

“That was a one time thing!” he protests, following after you and stopping you with an arm around your waist, tugging you against him. “And to my defense, you _were_ dressed as a dragon and I was, what, fifteen and totally in love with you? Teasing you was the only way to get through to you.” You roll your eyes. "And didn't you almost burn down the cave?"

“Hey! First of all,” you start, poking his chest with every syllable, “it was a onesie! A comfortable onesie! Secondly, I did not appreciate your teasing, whether you were in love with me or not." He chuckles fondly. "And thirdly, you and the rest of the Team wanted to check if I could breathe fire!”

He tilts his head, looking down at you. “It was pretty cool.”

You scoff, splaying your fingers across his chest, right where his Nightwing insignia rests. “It was so not cool.” Your hand trails up to cup his bruised face. “If it weren’t for Kaldur, I would’ve burnt down the souvenir room.”

“Was still pretty cool, and hot.” He presses a feather-light kiss to your forehead, and then your nose, chuckling when your nose twitches involuntarily. “Really hot. Literally and figuratively.”

“Only you would think that.” You run your thumb over his split lip and frown when he winces. Maybe you should’ve worked a little faster. “You okay? Want to stop by the cave to treat your wounds?" 

He kisses your thumb and he cups your jaw in his large hands, his playful expression sobering up. “I’m fine. Are you? You took down most of them.”

“They didn’t even touch me,” you say, proud of the fact. 

“That’s my pyromaniac,” he teases, brushing a lock of stray hair falling over your mask behind your ear. He leans down, and brushes his lips against yours teasingly.

“You’re hurt,” you whisper against his lips.

“So?”

“You’re going to start whining like a baby if you put too much pressure on your wound.”

“If I get to kiss you,” he breathes slowly, “I could care less.”

As much as you hate to kill the moment, the sounds of sirens going off in the distance reminds you of where you are and what you were doing. You reluctantly pull away before he can deepen the kiss, opting to hold his hand. “All right, bird brain, we need to get out of here before Rohrbach and the rest of the BCPD gets here. I really don’t want to explain how we found Penguin’s men or the warehouse.”

He laces his fingers with yours as the two of you leave the warehouse. The cold night air hits you for a second before your internal temperature balances itself to its regular heat—higher than an average human. He leads you towards his parked motorcycle gifted to him by his old mentor. “Can I still convince you to try on my handcuffs?”

“If you dress up as a dragon, breathe fire, and hoard treasure, then maybe I’ll think about it.”

“Huh. That’s doable. I have to look up dragon onesies as soon as we get home and I’m going to need your help to breathe fire—but totally doable,” he says jovially, squeezing your hand. “As for the treasure? Well, it’s a good thing that the only treasure I hoard or care about is right here with me.”

You grimace, trying to fight off the smile threatening to split your face in half. “Oof, yeah, no. Handcuffs aren’t happening, tonight, or ever.” 

He brings up your laced hands and kisses the back of your hand gently, before hopping onto the bike. “Oh, come on. I thought it was pretty good. You’re my treasure, my _tesoro_ , _comoara mea_ , _mon trésor_ , babe.”

You bite your lip and shake your head, slipping in behind him and wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. “Keep it up and you’ll be spending your nights on the couch for the rest of the week.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> As I said before, this is part of a fic trade/challenge mallory and I did.
> 
> If you’d like to participate or simply send mallory any prompts (you won’t regret it, you guys), join her [discord server](https://discord.gg/v8C84uw)! There’s also Six Sentence Sundays (where you get sneak peeks and you could react to them!), and access to (future) exclusive content (like oh, the cliche drabble series, which is one of my faves). If you’re also a writer, you may be interested in channels hosting fic discussions and tips, and a place to link your work for feedback.
> 
> You could also see my dumb ramblings about things on the Sleepover channel, and when I say dumb, I mean flubbering dumb mess lmfao


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